


Unbreakable

by Accal1a



Category: Metahuman Files - Hailey Turner
Genre: Depression, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Introspection, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24412618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accal1a/pseuds/Accal1a
Summary: Kyle tests his new capabilities as he thinks on the most FUBAR mission he'd ever been on.
Relationships: Kyle Brannigan & Alexei Dvorkin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 4





	Unbreakable

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry?

Gone. They were all gone. It was only him and Alexei left, and they weren't them anymore. Not really.

Kyle couldn't think about the mission. The mission that meant they were in this position. Their team, their brothers, gone. One minute they were in a fucked up situation, and the next minute they were suffering excruciating pain, pain unlike anything he had ever felt before. He'd been hurt, of course he had, but this felt like his very cells were rebelling against him…and then he'd awoken and found out that was _exactly_ what had happened.

He remembered crawling towards his brothers, seeing them one by one either writhing in pain and in the throws of death or already dead, a rictus grin on their faces, showing they'd died in the worst pain imaginable.

A fucking Splice bomb had gone off and his team were at the centre of it, he hadn't known what it was at the time of course, but now he did. Now he acutely fucking did. He remembered frantically casting around for Alexei, his brother in arms and in family, hoping against hope he wasn't going to find him among the dead. He didn't think he could cope with that. He knew he wouldn't survive that.

But Alexei had been fine…or whatever this new fucked up version of 'fine' was. They were alive, they were holding on to each other, and they were alive.

~~~

Kyle blinked from one moment to the next, trying hard to push the memories away. Trying hard not to think of the hellish debrief they'd had to suffer through as well. The way they'd had to explain what happened, the way they'd decided to lie. He didn't know if their superiors knew what had happened and wanted to keep them on Strike Force or whether they had got their new metahuman status past them. He didn't care. They weren't going to the MDF, and they weren't telling anyone what had happened. This was a secret they'd take to their graves.

He laughed bitterly at that. His grave. Was that even an option anymore? Could he even die? He didn't know.

He took his Ka-Bar knife from his sheath, staring at it for long moments before he picked it up, testing the sharp edge against a finger before putting it to his arm, putting pressure on his skin and pushing down, creating a wound across his forearm through skin, and vessels and muscle.

Blood welled up across his skin, and it hurt. At least he still had that. He half-hoped the whole thing had been some sort of fucked up dream, but he kept staring at the wound, and then he watched with horrified eyes as the wound knitted itself back together.

He picked up the shirt he'd discarded earlier and wiped his arm, the blood wiping away from the unblemished skin.

Fuck.

After that, he didn't know how long he sat there, how many times he dragged the knife across his skin, the number of times he saw it not matter, the number of times he wiped himself clean.

He cut deeper, right to the bone, and still it healed. He punched a wall so hard he _knew_ the bones in his hand broke, but the pain was gone in minutes and when he wiggled his fingers it was clear they were fine.

When he picked up his service weapon, it was through a haze of tears. He put it to his head, wondering if he'd survive that, wondering whether it mattered. It was only the face of Alexei that stopped him, because what if it didn't? He couldn't do that to him.

He heaved the weapon towards the wall with a scream of anguish. The plaster dented in their shitty apartment, but he didn't care. They could fucking take his security deposit.

He heard Alexei shout from the other room, heard him try to get in the room, knew he'd kick it down if he thought he should, so Kyle flicked the lock.

Alexei entered the room, his eyes immediately going to the gun on the floor, then taking in Kyle's arm, still spotty with blood, the bloody shirt on the floor and the knife loosely held in his grip.

"Kilyusha." He said softly, sinking down onto the bed next to his brother, carefully removing the knife from his hand, and putting his own hand on his brother's shoulder.

Kyle lent into the touch, putting a hand on his brother's thigh, needing that contact. "I'm fine Lyosha." Kyle replied, and hearing and using their nicknames somehow settled him.

"Not. But get through together." Alexei replied.

They sat there for long hours, not talking, mourning what they had lost, unsure of what they had gained. The unsettling future unfurling in front of them.

So they were metahumans now.

Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and visit the [Metahumans Discord Server and chat about this awesome series!](https://discord.gg/rA5uXWD)
> 
> ~~~
> 
> Fancy joining a multi-fandom Discord server where you can ~~squee with~~ chat with like minded people? Have I got the place for you!
> 
> Come and join **The Fandom Playhouse**. You don't have to be mad to [join](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD), but it does help...


End file.
